


the only apple on the only tree (that we're not supposed to eat)

by nereid



Category: The Wicked + The Divine
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:48:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23145703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nereid/pseuds/nereid
Summary: It's always the only apple on the only tree that we're not supposed to eat, and it's the same fucking shit all over again, except this time it's Laura looking at Baph, all metal and goth, and dark and grief, and not hers, not even remotely, and thinking,yes, I pick you.
Relationships: Baphomet/Laura Wilson | Persephone
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	the only apple on the only tree (that we're not supposed to eat)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clytemnestras](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clytemnestras/gifts).



_The entire history of human desire takes about seventy minutes to tell.  
Unfortunately we don't have that kind of time._  
\- richard siken

It's always the only apple on the only tree that we're not supposed to eat, and it's the same fucking shit all over again, except this time it's Laura looking at Baph, all metal and goth, and dark and grief, and not hers, not even remotely, and thinking, _yes, I pick you_.

We're all the same yearning being played out all over again. It's never the pears or the peaches, no offense to either the pears on the peaches, but them we could have. Easy as picking them from a tree, easy as saying, _yes, I'll have you_. Easy's never been that interesting, no matter if you're human or god. Easy is for other species, fuck easy, we will do this or kill ourselves doing this, and this is how it's been since Eden.

It's just, the apple, well, it didn't need to be seduced first.

They get coffee. Laura maybe should be in more of a rush, yes they were promised two years, but two years is not a lot, even if it seems like forever to a girl in her teens. But she's curious and she needs to seduce her apple, and not make her apple run away back to The Morrigan, so she's willing to take it slow, and of course do not even fucking pretend you haven't heard that saying about playing with your food and seductions, because that one's _so_ a thing, right? 

Laura thinks she'd like that, to play, and tease and test and see how it will go, to be this girl, some crossover of a noir femme fatale and what Laura feels Icona Pop had in mind when she sang _you're from the seventees but I'm a nineties bitch_. She wants to be charming and flirtatious and like, not care at all, and have the power to break hearts, because she remembers that one line from the Dune series about the person with the power to destroy something being the one with the most power over it. Or at least she thinks she'd like these things anyway, and Baph seems to be submitting himself to this voluntarily, so how's a girl supposed to resist such an apple served on a metaphorical silver platter. She still needs to metaphorically pluck it from the tree, though. 

She arrives first, colors galore, both on her outfit and in her hair, and picks a table next to the window, and when the brunette waitress asks her what she wants, Laura smiles, teenage girls are so many kinds od hunger in such young bodies, and her fingers trail the lists of beverages, hot and cold and everything in between, until her finger stops on what looks like the most decadent coffee-like drink possible, it's more sugar than coffee and it'll have hazelnut milk in it, and cream, and sprinkles, and Laura wants to bathe in it, except eww not really, why do people keep saying things like that when they don't mean them? What Laura really means is, she wants a huge bathtub and a sizzling hot bath, the bathtub matt black and with golden trimmings, and Baph there naked or at least mostly naked, and also he's bringing her however much she wants of the coffee-hazelnut beverage from her dreams, and maybe Bowie's playing in the background, but not too loud, more like background noise than anything tangible, really. 

The waitress soon brings her a huge mug that, as promised, smells like hazelnut and coffee, and also vanilla and something Laura can't really place, which is not a wonder, she's never beeen much of a decadent coffee person, not in the first part of her life, anyway, all time and money she could get went into fangirling. But now when there's no more need to be a fangirl, at least now how she was in the old days, she can sit here and happily take a sip of the way too hot beverage, waiting for another god to join her.

She's got her eyes set on the door. She's impatient now, two years be damned, but really -- that's almost a requirement for young gods, and if it wasn't for how her Doc Marten clad foot started tapping against the floor, she wouldn't know that she was nervous as well as being impatient, if those can ever be entirely separated anyway. She stops her foot tapping intentionally, her hand pressing gently into her thigh, and the tapping starts itself on its own accord, or at least that's what it feels like. There's a guy who comes in and almost looks like Baph, and for a split second she thinks it is Baph and it's funny because she turns so quiet and still all of a sudden, no more foot tapping, no more self-calming, and she knows then, of course, she's Laura fucking Wilson, and if Laura fucking Wilson wants Baph, well, she's gonna do her best, and she's not gonna fidget while doing it, alright?

Alright.

Easy-breezy, a piece of cake. 

A snap of a finger.

Mere seconds after the Baph-look-a-like takes a seat, upon second and third glance, Laura decides that he actually looks nothing like Baph, his edges too polished and too sharp at the same time, hair not dark enough, and eyes too wandering, too restless. Not that Baph's not these things, to a degree, but you know, like, there's more nuance in a teen girl's perception than is dreamt of in your philosophy. And then Baph comes in and the nuance of it all feels like a blow to her chest, and if she's not careful, she might stop breathing.

Baph, all metal and goth, and dark and grief, leather-jacket-wearing, hair-gelled-back, sunglasses on, and when he takes the seat across from her, she notes he smells of cinammon today and Laura wants to kiss and lick it off him, wherever it is, she wants to have to struggle to find the source, and she wants some kind of finder's reward. The cinammon scent is so strong she thinks she's imagining it, so between tasting the skin just below his ear to start the investigation there, and doing nothing, Laura settles on the option of doing nothing, at least for now.

_You've left your fangirling days, behind, remember_ , she castigates herself, and moves on seamlessly, her legs still steady, and her hands steady when she takes a sip of her coffee.

"Hey there, Laura," Baph says, something gentle in his voice that's often there, and something almost peaceful that's usually not.

"Hey, there, Baph," Laura answers, hopes she's succeeding at the faux-casual tone she's going for, it's not time, the seduction's not ripe yet, he hasn't even ordered his coffee, and she wants him so bad already.

As if he's following her thoughts, which she's sure he isn't, not cause it's impossible, she's not sure she even has it in her self to be surprised by her fellow pantheon members displaying new powers, but she knows what goes on in her own head, and if Baph could read her mind, she's pretty sure she'd know about it.

"What are you having?"

He takes off his sunglasses as additional punctuation, and Laura almost leans forward. Almost.

"Hazelnut Haven. All the drinks have alliterative names."

When the waitress gets to him, he's done browsing the menu, and he orders a Chocolate Chant, and he does it with such a straight face, Laura wants to kiss him. He still smells like cinammon, and it's not helping anyone out, okay.

Maybe this whole seduction thing could've been planned out in more detail, and maybe if she had planned it in more detail, she would know what to do with her hands right about now.

"How's the renovation going?" 

He's wanted to do something to make his place different, ever since The Morrigan stopped showing up expectedly, and then stopped showing up unexpectedly.

"I got such great curtains, they're - "

"Black?"

"Too goth?"

"Nuh-uh. Just the right amount of goth."

Baph's mouth widens into a crooked smile, and she hopes what the smile is saying is, _yes, you can pick me, out of all the other fruit, and I will not mind at all_.

But she still can't read minds, or smiles for that matter, regardless of other stuff she can do, so his smile remains a smile, though she's glad to be here to see it and to have it make her insides feel warm. She likes warmth.

"I'd like to see the curtains," Laura's mouth forms the sounds before Laura's brain can fully grasp what's going on, shit, too slow and not too smooth, she's not in a cliche rom-com, she had much better plans than a fucking -- 

"Yeah, sure, we can drop by there later," --

and Laura's mind circus stops swirling, hopefully for good this time, though probably not, but they sit in silence for a bit, and Laura asks Baph if he wants to try the Hazelnut Haven, and she tries not to over-focus on his mouth while he does. His Chocolate Chant is brought over by the waitress, and it looks creamy and dark, with swirles of something darker in it, and Laura thinks it looks like such a good choice for him.

"I have a confession," Baph says after taking few sips of his drink, and Laura's nerve endings tingle with excitement, both the bad and the good kind.

"I've been listening to Bowie lately -- I know, I know, if there was such a thing as goth credentials, they should be taken away from me, I know," he flails his hands around and his impeccable hair stays impeccable, and he covers his mouth with his hand like he's trying to prevent more knowledge as sacrilegous as this from coming out. Laura wants to hear everything and know everything, and she shakes off the mention of Bowie reminding her of Luci, and she moves on, it's not like Luci would do anything but mock her mercilessly for this whole day, and it's not like Luci's alive, so, it doesn't matter at all what Luci would do. Perhaps emboldened by this sudden Bowie revelation, or a memory of Luci, fleeting and quiet, _Because Lucifer's in hell. And you're the only one who came_ , because _fuck this being slow and scared_ , she's Laura fucking Wilson, she takes his hand into hers and moves it from his mouth gently.

"How about I only listen to Bauhaus for a week, and that way the cosmis balance won't be disturbed?"

It's not the most comfortable position, she has to admit, her hand tied with his, the angle's not quite right, and the sun's starting to set and is hitting her square in the eyes, so she has to blink a lot, and squint a bit, which is not an attractive look on anyone. Baph looks at her, and he looks at her like he always does, only not really, there's something new in there as well, or maybe Laura's imagining it. He looks ancient, but wide awake, and his thumb caresses her hand, and he maneuvers their hands in a better angle, but Laura expects him to stop moving, only he doesn't, he lowers his head to her hand, Laura can feel his breath on her skin, and it's electric and it's terrifying and when he kisses her knuckles it feels like it's all she's ever wanted.


End file.
